


My Favourite Gift

by coveredinthecolors



Series: we're made of starlight [2]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 04:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10455237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/pseuds/coveredinthecolors
Summary: It's Feyre's Birthday and she's still at the Spring Court, but that won't stop Rhysand from wanting to celebrate it with his mate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this was an excuse for smut. Enjoy :)

_“Go the woods tonight at 11. I need someone to keep me safe.”_

That was what the note said and it was probably the best gift Feyre had received that day – and she had woken up with piles of presents by her friends: dresses, jewellery, swords, daggers, delicacies from her favourite places in Velaris and even flowers cultivated by Elain and a set of paints from Nesta that seemed to be made from the night sky, the colours ranging from the beginning of the evening in a dashing blue to the pit black sky, illuminated only by the silver, twinkling stars.

She had long disassociated her Birthday with it being a joyous time; her family hadn’t been able to get her gifts it’d been a long while and last year her mind had been too busy trying to heal itself, but now… Her family – both the one that was bind to her by blood and the one she had chosen – had sent her presents and sweet messages, reminding her that they would always be there for her. And Rhys – oh, Rhys would be risking everything just to see her.

It was stupid and reckless and selfish of them. But she didn’t care. Every cell in her body was longing for his touch. All day, everyday.

She would go to him, and no one could stop her.

Thankfully, no one even tried.

Feyre had been getting better at winnowing, having been training her abilities in secret. Not because Tamlin wouldn’t let her, she had never even asked, but because she didn’t want him to know. When war came, if they were on opposite sides, she didn’t want her enemies to know just how powerful she was.

Being underestimated had its perks, she had found.

Getting out of the house, then, hadn’t been difficult at all and, in no time, she was already walking into the woods, her eyes and ears paying attention to everything that surrounded her and she had packed the dagger Cassian had given her just in case she had to defend herself.

The trees weren’t enough to cover the moonlight completely, but it was still hard to see where she was going; the shadows were winning that battle in their perpetual war against the light.

Her heart was pounding in her chest in frantic beats that rang loud in her ears… Where the hell was he?

Feyre felt the tug at their bond, calling her to him and she tried to follow it, desperate to get to him – and then she felt this presence just behind her and her instincts were to turn around, dagger in hand, ready to attack.

And it was Rhysand who stood there, wings out, hands in the air in surrender and a smirk on his lips. “Hello, Feyre darling. Would you mind lowering that?” he pointed to the weapon in her hands with his chin, “I don’t see you in months and that’s how you greet me… One would think that you’re not even happy to-“

The High Lord could hear himself talking all day, but she didn’t have the time for that. So she just made him shut up in the nicest way possible – shoving him against a tree with her lips attacking his, her tongue demanding entrance as she tried to get her body as close to his as possible, and that was still not close enough.

Rhys responded eagerly, his hands, that had begun on her waist, now were exploring her body, squeezing the flesh they found, and everywhere he touched her she felt as if her body would combust. They would set those woods on fire; burn everything down with their love.

Before she knew, her mate had wrapped his arms around her, securing her as his wings made them fly, higher and higher. They didn’t stop kissing until he landed them in a clearing.

They lay on the grass, too busy showing how much they had missed each other to actually voice it. She had already gotten rid of his shirt, her fingers taunting every bit of exposed skin as she felt his powerful muscles underneath them, when he got too impatient to wait and carefully remove her nightgown, tearing it apart like it was a piece of paper, her underthings suffered the same destiny soon after. She didn’t have it in her to so much as protest as his lips found one of her pebbled nipples, sucking on it and teasing it with his teeth until she was a mess underneath him, only pleading for more.

And more he gave as he pressed kisses down her abdomen, his tongue teasing her skin, his eyes always locked on her own. Feyre wondered how she’d survived these past months without him and Rhys couldn’t comprehend why he had agreed with this plan in the first place, because he sure as hell couldn’t live without tasting her everyday. Not when she made the prettiest sounds for him.

His mate  - begging for his touch, for the flick of his tongue against her core. And he complied more than happily, licking her to both their hearts’ content, circling the bud of nerves just above her glistening folds that always made her arch her back for him, giving him the most gorgeous view of her breasts. Putting his tongue inside of her again, made her begin to touch them, squeezing them and twirling her nipples around her fingers.

And with each gasp, he felt himself growing harder, until he was groaning against her as she shattered; her release tasted like heaven in his mouth, his name was a prayer on her lips.

Rhys kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue and her moan was accompanied by her reaching out to caress his wings – his pants were off in a second, the need for her becoming too much as he positioned himself at her entrance.

He looked into her eyes, needing that intimacy as he slowed himself inside of her, her soft cries as she adjusted to him felt like the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. His plan had been to be soft, to thrust into her slowly and languidly and enjoy this moment they’d have together, not knowing when they’d be able to share one like this again. But then she started moving her hips to meet his, desperately asking for more and how could he say no?

His thrusts became fast and rough as they claimed each other, claimed their mates that they had been missing so much. Feyre leaned in to kiss him, to pull him even closer, as if she hoped that now he was inside of her, they could merge and become one – this way they wouldn’t have to be separated ever again.

But the sad thoughts slipped from her mind, her worries dissipating with each time he thrust inside of her. Her mate. He felt perfect inside of her, filling her so deeply she wanted to yell out his name and she knew he felt the same, because the trees around them were trembling as he tried to control his power, and knowing that she almost made him lose that control, that he was close to destroying the entire forest just because of the pleasure she gave him, her mate… It was enough to drive her off the edge.

Rhysand kept on fucking her throughout her orgasm, as she yelled his name and she saw different stars than the ones in the sky or the ones in his violet eyes.

“Beautiful.” He praised, pressing soft kisses against her jaw, his nose caressing her cheek.

Feyre decided it wasn’t fair that she would be a mess underneath him while he stayed perfectly put together, so she reached to touch his wings again, revelling on how he moaned and purred against her ear as her nails scratched them lightly… Illyrians and their wings, she thought amusedly as he let go and came inside of her, his release sticking to her skin.

It was only then – and by the smirk on his face – that she realized that the light bathing them wasn’t coming only from the stars and the moon, but from her glowing body as well.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, but didn’t put a damper in the glow, wanting him to know just how happy he was making her.

Rhys just kept on grinning at her, “I didn’t say anything. Did you wear these just for me, by the way?” he asked, his face even smugger as he picked up some scrap of lace that had belonged to her underthings.

And Cauldron knew that he was already perfectly arrogant, no need to swallow his ego even more, so she just rolled her eyes and pulled him to lie down beside her, her head on top of his chest.

“I’ve missed this,” she said after awhile, when his fingers were caressing her hair and hers were idly tracing abstract forms on his skin.

Rhysand pressed a kiss to her hair and promised, “Soon you won’t have to miss me at all. In fact, Feyre, I plan on keeping you in our room for so long that you might actually get sick of me.”

She chuckled, “Somehow, I don’t think this is going to happen.”

“You are probably right. I’m irresistible and you love me too much to get tired of me.”

Feyre punched his chest lightly and muttered, “Prick. I only meant that I’ll be so busy catching up with everybody, that you won’t be able to keep me in our room,” she lied.

“It will be delightful proving you wrong.”

So they bickered and teased each other with words and then with touches, until the dark sky became less dark and orange and pink began to spread in the horizon… The colours were beautiful, but Feyre didn’t want to pain them at all.

Not when she had to force herself to stand up and watch as Rhys fixed their clothes and then kissed her, his eyes telling her that he would like nothing more than to take her with him, but he disappeared in the shadows alone.

And she walked back to the manor to fulfil her duty to the Night Court, to her family, to her mate.


End file.
